Something She Forgot
by SlytheringBacktoHogwarts
Summary: "Before she could question anything he was saying, she was blinded by a bright green light as the word 'Obliviate' sounded quietly from his lips." To keep her safe she must forget the wizarding world - but that means she must also forget him. Will that be enough? Or will the brightest witch of the century be able to pull her memories back? Dramione fic! ON HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Firstly, I want to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews on my first story (Awake - a wonderful oneshot that I'm struggling with whether I want to continue - if you haven't read it, please do! And review! It encourages me!).**

 **This won't be a oneshot so read, review, AND follow for updates. I can't promise how often new chapters will come because I am a super busy human that writes to release AND to procrastinate. But I do promise I won't make you wait too long. So long as you guys promise to show the love; I know I have readers but I want to know you guys are enjoying what I write as much as I love writing it!**

 **Just to fill you guys in (and this is all the backstory you get) - this is an AU. Voldemort won the war!**

 **The rest of the backstory will present itself throughout. If you have any questions though, leave them in the reviews and maybe I will get back to you.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Panic

The feeling encompassed every cell in her body. She was running, tripping on the cracks in the sidewalk, trying her hardest to stay on her feet. Behind her the footsteps were increasing in volume. With each thud a pain stabbed at her heart, this was it; she would surely be captured, tortured, and killed tonight. She couldn't control this as much as she could control her very own blood status. She turned left at the corner and caught sight of the hooded figures at the next intersection. Her breath caught in her throat as she backtracked, instead heading down a small dark alley. She could hear them shouting and running in her direction. They were coming from every direction now; she was trapped, doomed, dead.

Hide

That was about her only option, but where?

A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards an abandoned building. She wanted to scream against her better judgement, but the hand covering her mouth prevented it. "Don't move Granger! If you want to live, I suggest you be as still and quiet as possible!"

"Where the hell did she go?" She could hear the angry voices right outside the door and looked into the gray eyes in front of her, knowing he saw the panic that was consuming her.

Without saying another word the tall blonde, dropped his hold on her and walked out the door she'd just been pulled through, black robes billowing behind him. She felt she couldn't trust this guy but had nowhere to go, nowhere else to hide, nobody else in the world. She inched further into the dark corner and crouched down quietly.

"Draco, did you see that filthy little mudblood?" The voice was shrill, evil, and dripping with insanity.

"No. I came through this building hoping to cut her off but never saw her. Perhaps up around the next corner?" He lied smoothly to the small mob that had formed outside.

An alarm started to sound from what seemed a block or two over. They must've thought she was the culprit because the sound of footsteps faded away as the voices disappeared. Would he leave her here until someone else found her or would he return? Panic started to seep into her again and a moment later the door opened.

"Granger -" She didn't move even though she recognized the voice, he'd told her to stay as still and quiet as possible. When she tilted her head and met his eyes she saw agony reflecting back. He knelt down next to her in the dark room and wrapped his arm tightly around her. "You are not safe here." She felt a pull and closed her eyes tight, it felt as if her body were being stretched and ripped apart from the inside. Was he killing her?

When she opened her eyes she was standing in a park and the sun was rising. Confusion coursed through her now; it wasn't even midnight so why was the sun rising? She turned to the blonde next to her and saw a tear escape from the corner of his eye. She reached out to him, feeling the sudden need to comfort the handsome guy standing before her, but as her hand brushed against his cheek he pulled away unable to meet her soft, confused gaze.

"You aren't safe anywhere. I'm sorry Hermione; this is the only way to keep you alive." Before she could question anything he was saying, she was blinded by a bright green light as the word _Obliviate_ sounded quietly from his lips.

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Honey gasped, bolting upright in bed. She was drenched in sweat and her pulse was racing. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she palmed her eyes as if trying to hold her dream into the forefront of her mind. She grabbed the journal off her nightstand but the second her pencil touched the blank page in front of her everything was gone. Again! Her eyes found the alarm clock on the dresser across the room, 5:55.

"Ugh!" She slammed her head back into the pillows in frustration. She wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, there was no way. Since she was already covered in a sweaty glimmer she decided a morning run would do her good, clear her mind, hopefully.

The bed shifted slightly below her and the blankets pulled tighter. She froze realizing that she wasn't alone. Slowly, she glanced at the other side of her bed and green eyes met hers.

"Bad dream?"

 _Shit! What was his name?_

"Uh, hi -" He chuckled at her response.

"Jake."

"Oh, right. Jake. Well I -"

He sat up, scooted to the side of the bed and reached for his clothes. "It's fine Honey. I know I overstayed my welcome. No need for the small talk." She blushed and turned away, searching for her clothes to find them strewn across the floor. When she felt the bed move, she glanced back to see Jake pulling his shorts up over his hips. He was handsome, that she couldn't deny. She found herself staring at the tattoos covering his arms, transfixed by the ink marking his skin, so engrossed that she didn't notice him glancing over his strong shoulders to witness her astonishment. When he turned to grab his t-shirt from the headboard her eyes fell on his perfectly chiseled chest, washboard abs, and the defined pelvic muscles that practically begged to be touched.

Another chuckle escaped him as he pulled his t-shirt on, causing her to look away. "Well -" he reached for his shoes and tossed her a shirt that lay nearby. She mumbled a thank you, pulling it over her head. Clearly her discomfort at the morning was showing on the outside. "I had a nice night Honey." He sat on the end of the bed, pulling on his tennis shoes. She decided staying quiet was the route to making this awkwardness end quickly. Glancing around the room at all the unruly stacks of books, Honey tried to look anywhere but at the stranger sitting at the end of her bed.

 _God, I need to invest in some bookshelves!_

Her bed (always) unmade, the hundreds of books, the wine glasses on her nightstand, and the dirty clothes thrown where she stripped them off, Honey made a mental note that perhaps today should be the day when she'd clean. She'd go for a run, buy a bookshelf or two, and straighten up - maybe she would even do a little decorating. She had after all lived in San Fran for nearly 6 months and her apartment still looked like she'd moved in last week. A hand touched her knee startling her, reminding Honey that she didn't wake up alone. Reluctantly she brought her eyes to the owner of the hand and a smirk crossed Jake's features as he watched her. He quickly leaned over her, grabbed her empty journal from the nightstand, jotted something down inside, and stood, tossing the journal on the bed next to her. "Call me sometime" he said huskily as he left her room.

When the door to her apartment latched, Honey jumped from her bed and darted to the window. She pulled back the curtain to see Jake exit her apartment complex onto the busy street below. She watched him from behind the safety of her curtains wondering if she'd call him, completely oblivious to the grey eyes that were staring down her overnight guest as well.

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 **AN: So yes! Let me know what you think :D I'm already super excited about the coming chapters so perhaps an update will come sooner than even I expect.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Sorry I took so long to update this story. I decided that I wanted to continue my original story Awake into a two chapter piece, then when I returned to this story I just felt a bit lost. With the holidays and my Spring semester courses starting I didn't have a moment to put into this story until today. I also didn't feel very inspired because it didn't seem like this story was getting the reception that Awake was getting (the reviews, follows, favorites, even just reader stats were down).**

 **Originally I wanted to write a chapter from Draco's eyes but I just didn't know if the story was to that place yet. Maybe next chapter.**

 **Read and Review! Let me know what you guys think! I want to know you guys are out there and interested :) It will help me set aside time to write!**

 **Quick shout out to my ONE reviewer from chapter 1 (Channell285). Hopefully the break didn't discourage you from reading!**

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As she stepped out of her apartment, into the sunlight and the busy sidewalks, Honey positioned her earbuds in her ears and blocked out the chaotic world around her. She couldn't quite place what made running so perfect, so relaxing, so right, but she knew that activity was her only hope for clearing last night's dream from her thoughts.

 _Granger, you aren't safe here_.

Those words chilled her straight down the bone. Every night, before last night, when this dream haunted her sleep, that was the moment when she awoke, feeling panicked and unsure of whether she was truly in danger. Several times she had flipped on the light next to her bed, worried that a cloaked figure was lurking in the shadows.

When had the nightmares started? It had definitely been awhile, because for several months she had been seeing a shrink. Dr. Albertson believed that Honey's dreams arose from the fact that her parents had abandoned her, and she'd been left to fend for herself for so long. This was also his reasoning behind why she decided to up and relocate to California without a plan. While Honey respected that he had a degree which made him much more knowledgeable on the brain, she also felt that deep in her unconscious she was running from something else, running from something she just couldn't seem to remember.

Honey bent down to double check that her shoes were laced tight and took off in the direction of the park. With each stride, she felt her pulse quicken; with each cool draft of a breeze against her skin, she felt as if she could feel the memory of the dream ease from her mind and through her pores. She ran and with each footfall it was as if her life were falling back into place.

After what seemed like hours, she paused by a tree to check her heart rate. Honey noted that the park seemed busier today than usual. She looked around at all the families and couples with a few runners and loners sprinkled in. One gentleman her eyes lingered on for a few moments longer than everyone else. He was sitting on a bench, people watching much like her, but what made him stand out, what made her sight linger was his good looks. He seemed familiar but she couldn't quite put her finger on where she had seen this gorgeous, well-dressed man before.

A little girl's giggle drove her eyesight to a family nearby. By the looks of it, the girl was learning to ride her bike without training wheels. Honey's brows knitted as she tried to remember her parents teaching her to do the same, trying to remember a time when her parents were there for her. As the father let go of the daughter's seat she squealed with delight and her mother pulled a camera up to her face.

With a click and a flash the memory would be cemented in the family's lives forever.

Honey slid slowly down the tree squeezing her eyes shut. She was trying so desperately to remember something before California but all she could see was the dream from last night flooding back into the forefront of her mind.

A flash of green light

 _Obliviate_

What did that even mean? Obviously it wasn't English but what did it mean.

Honey stood and started running again, this time towards the public library.

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Slightly over an hour later, bent over a table near the back of the library, surrounded by countless etymology books and dictionaries, Honey was even more confused. She'd borrowed a notepad from the librarian, scribbling down as much detail from the dream as she could. The guy who had saved her, his friends/her "enemies" had called him Drake or something like that, he had looked her in the eyes and said she wasn't safe anywhere. The word obliviate had returned words like forget, obliterate, oblivion, remove - but what on earth could that have to do with her safety?

Glancing up from her research, Honey noticed the well-dressed man sitting nearby. Something stirred in her chest and worry started to fill her, making her feel as if she was starting to drown. Other than earlier in the park, she knew she had seen him somewhere before, but where? When? Why? Was this guy following her?

He was just sitting there, glancing around the room, at everyone, everything, everywhere but her. As she watched him, this dark skinned man shifted in his seat, and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows. He cracked his neck from side to side, as if sitting and watching the room was starting to drain him. As he reached his arm up to rub the back of his neck, Honey's eyes fell upon the ink that darkened his forearm. A tattoo of a snake stretched across his skin and Honey could swear that it moved - but that was impossible; it had to be a trick of the light or perhaps his muscles straining against his skin as he massaged a sore spot where his neck met his broad shoulders.

When her eyes shifted to his face she gasped as she met his. A smirk played across his face and she knew that she'd been caught. The look he was giving her was a look she felt a snake probably wore right before it devoured a mouse in one gulp. If she was worried before, it didn't even measure to the weight of fear that filled her now.

Quickly she started slamming books closed and stacking them to return to the desk. She glanced back up to see the dark stranger replacing his sleeves, tightening his tie, and standing.

 _Shit!_

She ripped the paper from the pad that the librarian had lent her. Cursing, as she noticed he was shrugging on his suit jacket, Honey realized she was running out of time. She needed to get out of there, and now! She darted for the door, apologizing to the librarian as she rushed by the desk.

Unsure whether she was being followed or not, Honey took several wrong turns hoping to throw the guy off her course. When she neared her apartment she paused quickly in the shadows of an alley across the street, glancing behind her to see if she was indeed being followed; she sure as hell didn't want to lead this stranger to her apartment. A deep chuckle around the corner filled ever millimeter of her body with a cold dread.

"We were wondering where you disappeared to mudblood." She could feel hatred behind his words even though he was still several hundred feet away.

Panic

She felt panic race through her bloodstream. She couldn't make it to her apartment without him seeing that was where she escaped, where she lived, where should would be imprisoned if he knew outside her building was where to wait. Maybe she should run a few more blocks to the police station.

She turned, running into something solid.

 _Shit! Of course he would bring friends!_

She was most certainly dead now as a hand enclose around her arm. She was shaking and was vaguely aware of the tears sliding down her cheeks. Right before the feeling of being ripped apart slowly from the inside out wrapped her like a cloak, the same thing she'd felt near the end of last night's dream, she glanced up into silver eyes.

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 **AN: I'll just leave the chapter there...Do you guys want a chapter from Draco's POV? That may help it seem more like a Dramione fic...Hell it'd probably help it seem more like a HP Fic in general. Yeah that is probably coming up next :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:**

 **Let me start by saying thank you to my reviewers! You guys gave me mixed reviews. While KawaiiAlex said they thought it'd be better only in Hermione's POV, I had already started with Draco's, wanting to put some of the history, wanting to explain WHY Hermione was Honey, and honestly wanting to get back a little into the wizarding world (It didn't quite seem HP enough). So here it is!**

 **This chapter is about the length of the first two together but I just couldn't see where to separate it without a weird break!**

 **Let me know what you think! Read and Review PLEASE and Thank you!**

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"So let me get this straight, you - Draco Malfoy, one of Lord Voldemort's most trusted minions - you hid the most wanted mudblood in the Wizarding World?!"A roar of laughter filled the room, sounding strangely out of place echoing off the stone walls. Hours of questioning and it seemed neither wizard was willing to give in; it had to be cranked up a notch.

"Confractus!"

The finger on which his wand rested snapped violently backwards. The last of the laughter echoing in the corners was replaced with a low grunt and heavy breathing.

"You son of a – "

"Do you really want to finish that statement? Speaking ill of my mother definitely isn't going to do you any good."

"Does she know? Does the Dark Lord know?" While the words were meant to sound smug, they came out instead strained between teeth gritted in pain.

"Know what?"

"That in your spare time you not only are creating and perfecting new curses but you are also – " The conversation was cutoff as choking and gagging replaced the words cutting through the air between the best friends.

"Did you get all tongue-tied?" Between the coughs, as air refilled the strangled lungs, mumbled expletives could be heard. "Would you prefer I cut out your tongue next time?"

Dark brown eyes met light grey ones. "I'm not telling you shit!"

"Then you leave me no choice mate. Transperforo!"

Silence filled the room momentarily as if both wizards were frozen in time, waiting for something to strike. An amused snicker shook the wizard bound in the chair. "Looks like you need a little more work on those hexes - mate." He spat out the final word as if it pained him to call the wizard towering above him a comrade. Then without warning he screeched in agony, straining against the restraints in hopes of locating the source of such discomfort. "What the bloody hell did you do Draco?"

"You know Dolohov, correct?" Draco bent down, face-to-face with the fettered captive in front of him. He watched as a look laced with recognition and a tiny bit panic flashed across the features of the face before his. "Of course you would since it seems Mother Dearest has deemed him appropriate for Daddy Number 8." Draco rose tall and confident, circling a trembling Blaise Zabini like a vulture shadowing his prey below; he hated what he was doing, torturing one of his best friends for information but he had to know how exactly Zabini ended up here in California of all places. He had to know whether or not he'd been sent here for Hermione.

Whimpering, Draco could hear Zabini fighting to keep the screams of agony building inside him suppressed. He knew his companion well enough to know that he would do anything to hide the pain that he knew was undoubtedly increasing every second. "We both are aware of Dolohov's curse, seeing it cast upon helpless adversaries. Well Dolohov's handiwork weakened the organs, causing them to rot and shrivel; interesting but not quite as painful as my creation, the curse that currently plaguing you."

Blaise didn't bother to raise his head while Draco spoke. Perhaps he couldn't move, too sore from the torture happening inside his body, or perhaps he just didn't want to acknowledge that his best friend was at the other end of the wand causing such excruciating pain. When a trickle of blood started to collect in Zabini's lap, Draco tipped back his head worrying that his spell may have killed him faster than anticipated; instead he discovered that Blaise had bit through his lip trying to hold in his screams.

"You see I tweaked his curse; my creation punctures organs through and through, causing internal damage. It takes a moment for the effects to set in but once they do this curse's torment intensifies gradually and then, just when you think it is all about over, nothing can be worse in this moment, death must be knocking at the door – " Draco paused knowing what was coming next. He leaned against the wall, impressed that Zabini had held out as long as he had. He was about to continue his speech when Blaise's head snapped towards the ceiling and he let out a deep wail of agony, as if praying to the God's, any God, to end the torture happening inside of him.

"Silencio!" The screams were immediately muted. Blaise's head fell and Draco thought he saw a glistening of tears on his cheeks; it very well could have been sweat though. "Just then, that pain, that was another organ being pierced straight through. It will continue, organ by organ until you die." Blaise's shoulders started to shake; Draco wondered whether from weakness and pain or fear. "Or, of course, until I administer the counter-curse." Zabini fought to raise his head, eyes glazing over; Draco knew he was about to lose consciousness. He raised his wand and muttered the only words that would keep his best friend alive; what use was the wizard if he were dead.

Bloodied and beaten, Zabini almost didn't look recognizable. Magically bound to a chair so tightly Draco wondered how the blood was able to circulate within Zabini and spill from his mouth, onto his lap.

He conjured up a glass of water and held it out but Blaise weakly shrugged it away. "If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have delivered the counter. I don't need to poison you, Mate." Draco starred as the sunken eyes in front of him narrowed into slits; in that moment he realized that 15 minutes of his curse had turned a healthy man into one that looked as if he had been battling extreme illness for years. "Look the counter-curse completely healed any damage done but that doesn't mean you aren't worse for the wear." When Zabini still didn't make a move for the water, Draco tipped it back and downed the glass.

"Wha – What do you want?" Blaise croaked out as if he'd been unable to speak for years.

"What brings you to California?"

"Va – " He paused to clear his throat. "Vacation"

"So you'd have me to believe that you came over 8,000 kilometers for a vacation? Nobody twisted your arm?"

"The only person that twisted my arm was Pansy." Blaise tried to chuckle at Draco but it came out sounding closer to a Hippogriff cough. "Don't look at me like you had no clue that I was seeing Pansy; it's been around the rumor factory several times."

"Yeah but I didn't –" Draco cut himself of mid-statement. "Wait does that mean that Pansy is in town as well?"

Blaise got extremely still in that moment but Draco immediately saw the sign he was looking for, a twitch in his lip that screamed _I'm Lying_!

"Crucio"

As red light streamed from the tip of the wand and hit its target square in the heart. Blaise's body jerked against the restraints, the sound of teeth grinding bounced off the walls. When Draco lifted the torturous curse, he figured his best friend would have little fight left in him.

"Does the Dark Lord know you're here Zabini?" He paused as Blaise repositioned himself in the chair. "Does he know that SHE is here?"

Zabini lifted his chin high, forcing his eyes to meet Draco's. Then it was as if he suddenly understood, like an invisibility cloak had been lifted off the situation.

"You love her!"

"I asked you if the Dark Lord knows." Draco was losing the little bit of patience he had left. His calm voice rose in anger as he practically shouted, "Does he know Hermione is in California?"

Blaise answered with a roll of his eyes; "No, nobody was made aware that I am in California! And as far as _she_ " he practically spat out the word "is concerned, I had no information to contrast her death, much less that the bitch is alive and here."

"So then, what are you doing so far from home?" Draco knew he couldn't completely believe what Blaise Zabini was telling him. Later he'd bind his body and mind, perform occulmency, and tear down all his friend's walls towards the complete truth.

"I –" The look on Zabini's face was sour, as if he couldn't believe he was about to spout the words festering on his tongue. "I was scouting the place out. Seeing how private it could be."

"Why?" Draco was curious now.

"Because I wanted a getaway, somewhere where I could disappear for a few days with –"

"Pansy?" Draco finished. He wasn't looking at the wizard bound in the chair at his feet, but he could hear the weak, frustrated sign that he emitted, causing him to give his undivided attention to Blaise.

"No." Zabini practically growled in frustration. His next words came out in a whisper so quiet Draco almost missed them, almost. "With Flora and Hestia."

"The Carrow twins?" Draco questioned in disbelief. When Blaise nodded Draco continued slowly – "Aren't they both engaged and neither to you?"

"Their father always despised me, claiming that I wasn't worthy enough to have his daughters. Little does he know – I have them, together, several times a week!" Zabini said smugly. Then under his breath Draco heard him mutter something close to "They're freaky bitches!"

Draco rubbed his temples, trying to sort out whether Zabini's story was likely or improbable. The move seemed to irritate Blaise to some extent because he struggled against the restraints and practically howled "Look into my brain. There are enough memories in there that prove this. You know I'm bloody awful at making shit up – there is no way I could fabricate THIS many sex scenes with two slags!"

Turning his back to his friend, Draco leaned against the cold stone, contemplating how the two wizards got to this spot in time. "So Pansy?"

"The girls' idea. They figured if people, their family and suitors in particular, thought I was spending my time with a lady, fingers wouldn't be pointed in the direction of our little trio. Pansy was an easy target because we both know she likes me so much that she'd never deny the rumors; if worse came to worse I could use her a few times, turning the rumors to facts."

Throughout Blaise's speech, realization struck Draco that not only was this plan smart, it solidified this as the truth. Zabini sucked at making up lies and pulling them off; this story wasn't a fabrication. But now what? Draco started to pace. He now knew that Voldemort was unaware of Hermione's existence in California. But how could he keep it that way? Of course Blaise just couldn't give him a moment of piece and silence to think about the next plan of action.

"SOOOO I'm curious how the biggest pureblood prat and someone so high up in the Death Eater ranks fell in love with the worst of the worst."

Draco turned and exited the room quickly. He needed a moment to think in quiet. In the hallway he slid down to a seated position, burying his head in his arms, hiding himself into a childish position that made him feel strangely safe from everything happening around him.

How was indeed the question.

When was also a valid question.

If he was being completely honest with himself, Draco always felt this strange pull towards Hermione Granger. Sure when he was at Hogwarts he despised her, just like he was taught. But there was always this strangeness that he could never quite explain, even if he had wanted to put a finger on it.

His eyes were drawn to her. Frequently he would find himself staring at her in class, when she was staring excitedly ahead, almost brimming from the knowledge she was receiving. On occasion he would find privacy in a corner of the library and would watch around a book as Hermione studied, biting her lip when a subject particularly stumped her. Over the years at Hogwarts he had learned the smallest most intimate details about Hermione Granger, details he didn't even care to spot in all the girls he escorted through his dormitory. When nervous she would chew on her quill or her thumb, never biting down enough to cause damage, just resting it against her teeth. Or like how after that particularly awful incident in 4th year, when she was deep in thought, a daydream perhaps, she would run her tongue slowly over the fronts of the teeth. Draco noticed that when he got her riled up and angry her breathing would hitch, her nostrils would flair slightly, and her hair would whirl faintly as if her anger actually created a breeze.

It was as if he had hypersensitive ears but only to her laughter. He'd be sitting at dinner, listening to one of the Slytherin's drone on, when her giggling would start reverberating around his head; tables away it would sound like he was sitting right there next to her and Potter and one Weasley or another. He never could hear what she was giggling about which would perplex him even more - in a time when someone like her should be worried or scared, she was laughing.

Oftentimes at night he would swear he could smell her in his private dormitory; lavender and vanilla. It flooded his nostrils when she was in the same room, causing irreparable damage to his senses for the next 24 hours.

He'd break into nervous sweats when she was around, usually accompanied by slight tremors in the hands that he started hiding by keeping his hands clinched in his pockets. It got to the point that he knew when she was around a corner before turning, or when he was outside the castle, he knew that she had just exited the big doors. He could feel this shift in the atmosphere.

Of course these issues only intensified each year. First year it was just slightly off-putting; he hadn't, after all, even spoken a full sentence to the bushy-haired witch.

Second year it became impossible to ignore after the time that the Slytherin Quidditch team encountered the Gryffindor's on their way to the pitch. Her statement "they got in on pure talent" truly shook him, throwing him off his game because most witches adored wealth of the Malfoy family. He'd retorted by calling her a mudblood, because he wanted the older Slytherin's to like him but the broken look on her face would haunt him. He remembered lying on the cold, leather couches in the Slytherin common room after a particularly bad night plagued with dreams of that specific face, he strangely wanted to caress away the troubled lines. That day he'd made a nasty comment to Crabbe and Goyle that he wished Hermione would be the next victim of the Heir of Slytherin; his statement would haunt him more than hers did after she was attacked. He complained with a stomach ailment that night so Snape would send him to the infirmary; there he snuck behind her curtain and watched her frozen body from the shadows.

Third year was when Hermione started to snap back at his comments. Surprisingly she reached her boiling point not when he commented about her but when he made some off-the-wall insult about Hagrid; she slapped him and that touch ignited in him this odd passion to feel her skin against his.

Fourth year was of course when he almost let his guard too far down. When the death eaters arrived at the Quidditch World Cup, he couldn't stop himself from warning Pothead and Weasel to get Hermione to safety, but thankfully it came out less caring and more tauntingly so neither thought twice about it. But that wasn't even the worst of it, fourth year was the year of the Twi Wizard Tournament. Not only did he feel a pang of jealousy every time he spotted Hermione with that oaf Krum, but he had to hear about it constantly from the other Slytherin girls. Then when she showed up to the Yule Ball on his arm, dressed in a shade of blue that accentuated her skin, he couldn't stop staring. Thankfully neither could Pansy, who spent the evening remarking how surprised she was that a Mudblood could look so decent; she seemed to take his gawking as a sign of his same surprise.

Fifth year he tried to lay low, thinking that his infatuation was being noticed by several people who would not only get back to his father but the Dark Lord. He spent a large amount of time trying to keep the Inquisitorial Squad from bumping to Hermione. When Marietta Edgecomb contacted them and Umbridge about a secret group and where to find them, he made a rash decision to contact his family's old houself, Dobby, to tip them off of Umbridge's raid. While Hermione remained uncaptured, he couldn't get her out of trouble when him and a few other IS members found them using Umbridge's office for the Floo Network.

Sixth year was worse than the previous 5 combined. When asked to take the mark, Draco knew he had no way of escaping the situation. When he was told to sneak the death eaters into Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore, Draco fretted over not only what would happen after the headmaster fell but he also found himself often lying in bed late at night worrying over what Hermione would think when she discovered he was a killer. Knowing that Hermione plagued his thoughts daily, he went to his aunt for help with Occulmency. He'd be spending large chunks of time with the Dark Lord now that he had a mark on his forearm and he wanted to ensure that when he poked around for information on his task that Voldemort would never wander over the wrong thing. Not only would that be bad for Draco - but he feared others knowing of his obsession with this particular witch would put her in harm's way as well. He not only had to be careful outside Hogwarts but inside. While at school he could feel the Golden Trio as well as a handful of the Professor's watching his every move. Occasionally he'd look up to find a look that almost seemed concerned etched across Hermione's features, as if she knew, as if she cared. But he the night of Slughorn's party when she showed up with Cormac McLaggen he almost lost his cool; of course she didn't feel any concern and worry for him.

All those years he could never quite put a finger on why Hermione was on his mind, teasing his senses at every turn. After Albus Dumbledore fell, even though Draco wasn't the killer in the end, he couldn't return to Hogwarts. That was when Draco realized that his obsession wasn't because of disgust, annoyance, or even curiosity. When he was lying in bed late at night he found himself worrying about her whereabouts and her safety. It was those nights when he would think back to their days at Hogwarts and reminisce over the good times and the bad because at least she was close enough that he could save her. It was after sixth year, when they were thrown into the midst of war instead of completing their seventh year of studies that Draco realized he actually missed Hermione Granger; he missed her beauty, her strength, and her temper.

The day that the snatchers showed up to the manor with the golden trio; Draco felt his heartbeat start to race with anticipation. The moment Hermione Granger entered the door to his childhood home, the racing stopped, immediately replaced with his world collapsing around her. He knew in that moment that what he felt for this witch was far from hatred. In that moment the only person in the world that he could truly say he cared about was in the most dangerous situation possible. When he had a free moment he apparated to Hogsmeade, ran to Hogwarts, and when he located Dobby, Draco informed him that he was the only one that could save Harry Potter and Hermione. When he reentered Malfoy Manor and saw Hermione trembling on the floor, it took all his energy not to hex his aunt across the room.

Draco stood confidently and started back into the dungeon room that his best friend was in. In that moment he knew what he had to do; he had to ensure that Hermione Granger was safe.

His best friend was still strapped down to the chair in the center of the room. He seemed to be recuperating well from the tedious torture he had endured and was quietly humming, as if content with the place his actions had landed him. Before Malfoy stepped into Blaise Zabini's line of eyesight his comrade laughed.

"Come on Mate. Might as well tell me! We both know that I will never see the outside of this room again."

"I'm rather talented with memory charms as you've noticed."

"Are you? Because I could swear she recognized me! Probably from the time that I fu - " His speech was cut off as Draco dropped his wand and instead went for the good, old fashioned, beating, punching him so hard across the face that Zabini spit a stream of blood and a tooth onto the floor.

"Fortunately for you, I have a plan and it requires _you_ to be alive." Zabini looked curiously at Draco, whose turn it was to chuckle. "You see, I am going to be going on a little trip. And I need an inside man while I'm gone."

Without any further explanation, Draco Malfoy turned his wand on the wizard bound before him and muttered "Imperio!"

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 **AN: Just to clarify:**

 **Confractus and Transperforo are spells that I made up based on Latin. The Wizarding World is also unsure what exactly Dolohov's spell does...so I made that up based on the only evidence given.**

 **Remember to let me know what you think! What do you think will happen next? Will Draco introduce himself to Honey? :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry! I cannot apologize for how long it has taken me to update. I moved a little over a month ago - with that and work and school...well something just had to slide.**

 **To my awesome reviewers:**

 **lakelady8425 - I think one of my favorite things in the last chapter was making up dark spells. If I really could do it - I would! I hope this chapter clears up where Hermione/Honey was.**

 **annaea3077 - I'm glad you enjoyed it a month and half ago! I hope you have returned to read some more!**

 **dekaying - I'm a librarian by day (dramione writer by night) so I pride myself on research! I hate reading fanfictions that don't have all the facts right; I often stop reading them. The other day I read one where Draco's middle name was wrong and it bothered me to the point where it kept me up at night until I unfollowed the story. I may be a tad weird. I obviously understand alternate universe but I still like to have as many facts researched as possible.**

 **Again! Please read and review. It keeps me going when I am bogged down and stressed! The more reviews I get the bigger chance that I will update quicker...It is also my birthday this weekend - So I would consider it a present!**

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Honey rubbed her eyes, making note of the buildup of crust around her eyes; she'd been asleep for some time, a hard sleep that didn't come plagued with her usual dreams. Stretching like a bear awoken from hibernation, Honey yawned deeply noticing the sweet taste of lavender on her parched tongue.

The old cellar door burst open, causing intense fear to explode within Honey, who now found herself tangled in blanket on the cold cement floor. The single lightbulb in the center of the room flickered as if fear were causing it to shiver like Honey's hands.

"Honey Darlin'! It's 'bout time ya woke up!"

Honey glanced up into the concerned face of her boss; Miss Vivian, the owner of Canterbury Ales, a bookstore and bar walking distance from Honey's apartment, was short, plump, extremely southern, and graying, which was only expected of someone with 77 years of life behind her. As Honey pulled herself back up onto the couch, the old lady reached up and tapped the light with her long nails, causing the pulsing light to stabilize and brighten the room. Then Miss Vivian continued to bustle about the room, grabbing bottles without looking at the labels and placing them in the basket popped on her hip. "I told James that if ya weren't a showin' signs of life within the hour that I'd be a callin' the rescue squad. He says I's a bein' silly but I can tell ya had him just as worried. He keeps a droppin' things an' havin' me restock the bottles 'hind the bar just so I come down heres an' check on ya."

Honey's brow furrowed. She'd been working at Miss Vivian's shop for nearly 5 months; it'd become her home away from home of sorts. Oftentimes when she didn't want to sit in her apartment alone, she'd come down the block and help Miss Vivian, and Mr. James, by stocking the bookshelves, cleaning glasses, waiting on customers; once she had even spent an entire day off helping Miss Vivian rearrange bookshelves to allow a hidden room, accessible to those that wanted to disappear into a small nook and read alone. Never had Honey showed up to the store for any reason other than to work or to spend time with the old couple that had taken her under their wing like family. Showing up to fall sleep on the couch in the cellar made zero sense.

"How long have I been asleep?" Honey questioned, falling back into the corner of the couch and pulling the blanket back around her. Those six words, that one question, it sucked the energy right out of her. Perhaps she needed to get home and sleep a little longer. Perhaps she was getting the flu.

"Sleep? Is that what you youngsters call that? Honey Darlin', I's came down here this mornin' an' there ya was, knocked out cold on the couch. I tried a wakin' ya up but ya just turned over an' mumbled somethin' 'bout runnin'. Ya've been a sleepin' for near 12 hours since then at least. Sweetie Pie, are ya feelin' ok?"

"I guess – " Honey tried to remember what she was doing this morning, what landed her in the basement cellar of Canterbury Ales, but the last thing she could remember was waking up next to gorgeous tattoo guy and then deciding to go for a run. "I guess I was still tired this morning and my run exhausted me. But 12 hours? Miss Vivian surely you are exaggerating."

"I ain't a pullin' ya leg Honey. I was serious as a squirrel collectin' nuts when I said I was a thinkin' a callin' the rescue squad." Miss Vivian patted Honey on her knee, concern etched deeply in the wrinkles around her frown.

"I hope I'm not coming down with anything." Honey quickly made a mental note to question Dr. Albertson on what could be causing memory loss and exhaustion; but then she sighed realizing that she probably wouldn't remember her mental note.

"I got jus' the right thing for that! I cooked up some homemade chicken noodle soup las' night for James; the weather gettin' warmer has his allergies all in a tis. Why don't ya just go upstairs to the bar, make a cup a hot tea, an' I go warm ya up a bowl."

Honey's stomach growled at the thought of food. If she had truly been asleep for over 12 hours that meant she hadn't ate in close to 24. "That sounds delightful. Thank you Miss Vivian." Grabbing the basket from Miss Vivian so that she could concentrate less on its weight and more on getting safely up the stairs, Honey made her way up the stairs with the heavy load, listening to the old lady behind her mumbling about youngsters thinking she wasn't capable of caring for herself.

"You know, Miss V – I only carried this basket so I could do the stocking behind the counter while you warmed up that mouthwatering soup." Honey said, pausing at the top of the stairs to balance the basket on the railing while she fumbled with the doorknob.

"I wasn't complaining Sweetie. I was just reassuring myself that I'm young enough to still do the things nobody will let me do." Miss Vivian protested as Honey finally got the door to swing open. The sound of his wife's voice, prompted Mr. James to glance over his shoulder. Upon seeing Honey bogged down with the heavy basket of wine bottles, he hurried over and with a smile said "Look who decided to grace us with her presence!"

"I'm sorry to worry you Mr. James."

"I'm a gonna go upstairs an' warm her up some a that soup I made ya last night. Do ya want anythin' while up there?"

"Nah" Mr. James answered. Carrying the basket away he picked up bottles as he walked, examining each of the labels to see if they would be satisfactory. Honey followed him quietly to the bar, giggling at Miss Vivian who was making her way to the stairs to the flat above the bar, stopping occasionally to comment to a patron how she was unsure how she could have been married to the man behind the bar for so long, 60 years to be exact.

Mr. James, much like Miss Vivian was graying with age, but that was about the only thing they had in common. He was tall, skinny, and tanned even though he rarely went outside Canterbury Ales. The couple had moved from a tiny town in the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina after they retired, to be closer to their children. Miss Vivian was the lover of books; she was a retired librarian and was the one with a desire to run a bookstore. Mr. James, he was the lover of alcohol; as a retired police officer and Vietnam Veteran, he bought the bar for Miss Vivian on their 50 wedding anniversary telling her that nothing paired better with books than booze just like nothing paired better with him than her.

Honey was startled from her thoughts on the couple when Mr. James set a bottle of Jack Daniel's in front of her.

"Add that to your tea Honey. It's an ol' military secret – Whiskey will scare off any ol' cold!" With that statement the electric kettle that Honey had plugged in mid-daze started to whistle and Mr. James turned to refill a beverage at the far end of the bar.

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An hour later, after devouring a bowl of soup that could feed a family of four, as well as running home to shower and change, Honey was hurrying back in the door of Canterbury Ales just time for the Saturday night crowd to start rolling in. Because she hadn't done laundry in weeks, and because she was in too big a hurry to try and match her clothes, Honey was dressed in a navy sundress with a red sweater and red flats. She had her hair pulled back into a loose messy bun and because she promised Miss Vivian she'd be back before she noticed she was missing, Honey only put a little eye liner, mascara, and lip gloss on. While not at her best, Honey definitely wasn't looking her worst.

"There you are!" Mr. James caught her walking behind the bar. "The ol' lady was lookin' for ya. I told her I had ya waitin' on a group in the other room. Ya best look busy!" With that he handed her a tray full of drinks, kissed her on the cheek and pushed her towards the back room. "I took their order when they walked in the door. Just don't go tellin' on me ya hear! Or I will tell Viv that ya took longer than she 'spected!" Mr. James threw her a quick smile over his shoulder before turning back to the couple at the bar.

Turning to carry the tray of 8 fruity drinks into the other room, Honey was distracted thinking it must be a bachelorette party or a group of cougars starting their night out, which hopefully meant greats tips for her. She did, after all, need to invest in some bookshelves. Before she knew what was happening, someone came around the corner, bumping into her. Or perhaps she bumped into him. Either way, the tray of drinks went tumbling to the door.

"Bloody Hell!" Honey cursed. The sound of glass reverberated around the bar and she was positive that Miss –

"Honey, Sweetheart, what'd ya do? It's them shoes I'm a tellin' ya. Ya can't be a wearin' those or ya'll slip an' fall. Lucky ya didn't break anything, did ya?"

Yep Miss Vivian had heard the commotion and come running. Honey was on her knees trying to grab all the big pieces of glass as well as soak up some of the drinks with the towels that had been sitting at the edge of the bar.

"Sorry Miss. I believe this was my fault." Honey paused her cleaning when a male voice answered Miss Vivian's cries.

"Viv Darlin'. Why don't ya go tell that room of nice ladies that it'll be a few more minutes? I'll get started on makin' the replacements." Miss Vivian hurried away as her husband commanded. When she was out of earshot he leaned a bit closer to Honey and said "Honey don't ya worry! Those ladies won't know the difference in a minute and an hour with the amount of alcohol they've already drank today." He boomed with laughter and walked away to make more drinks before the bar got backed up.

Honey was still frozen to the spot trying to decide if she was embarrassed or not. Her cheeks burned red when the well-dressed gentleman, that she had apparently collided with, bent down to start helping her pick up the pieces. Finally she found her voice.

"Thank you. But I can get this. Miss Vivian would have a cow if a customer cut themselves. Fuck –" No sooner had the words come out of her mouth, had Honey sliced her palm on a piece of glass. The gentleman in front of her picked up a towel and wrapped it tightly around her hand. The alcohol from the drinks caused a burning sensation; Honey tried to pull away but the stranger's grip was strong. She noticed that his knuckles on his hand were newly scarring, as if he had recently punched someone.

When he pulled away and removed the towel the gash was almost completely gone and no blood was seeping out, as if it had been healed by magic.

"That was some strong tequila Mr. James put in those drinks!"

The stranger laughed at Honey's comment, a laugh that caused a tingling in Honey's stomach that quickly flowed through her bloodstream. The gentleman on his knees in front of her held out his hand, as if in the floor over a mess of glass and cocktails was a time to introduce himself.

"I'm Tom!" Honey took his hand with her uninjured one and looked up into Silver eyes, orbs that she felt she knew but couldn't remember from where.

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 **AN: Thoughts? Questions?**

 **Just want to share your love?**

 **REVIEW!**

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